Just Like That...?
by ChiefPam
Summary: Are there any obstacles that true love cannot overcome? When Lois finds herself the victim of a mystical soul transference, she puts Clark's love for her to a severe test. A variant of the clone/amnesia arc.
1.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you've seen on TV, and the basic idea for this story was taken from a situation in the episode "Seconds".  
  
This is a dark little tale, but not a deathfic. It's my firm belief that  
Lois and Clark will end up together no matter what, but it won't always be  
easy. It will be helpful to the reader if you have seen the 3rd season   
non-wedding arc (I Now Pronounce You/Double Jeopardy/ Seconds) but I  
tried to provide enough backstory to tell you everything you need to know.  
I only ever saw DJ/Seconds one time each, and I wasn't about to watch them  
again, not even for research.  
  
I began this story over two years ago. It would never have been finished  
without the encouragement of the regulars on Zoomway's fanfic boards http://www.zoomway.com/boards, who bullied me to finish this part and inspired me to write the sequel. I owe an extra debt to my volunteer editors: Chris, Wendy, Marnie, Joy, Julie, and Merry. Thank you all.  
  
For all three of you who will notice g I used different symbols to break  
up scenes: *** indicates a scene change; * indicates a POV shift within a  
scene. Comments always welcome, good, bad, or indifferent.  
  
______________  
  
JUST LIKE THAT...?  
by Pam Jernigan jernigan@bellsouth.net  
Rated PG  
Submitted November 1999  
______________  
  
  
--Prelude--  
  
She woke up knowing something was wrong. She wasn't overly concerned at  
first; she could handle trouble. Only she couldn't pinpoint what, exactly,  
was troubling her -- a vague feeling of dread haunted her stomach, but her  
mind was strangely clouded. Warily, she opened her eyes to find she was in  
a sunny, cheerful, unfamiliar hotel room. She waited, lying still on the  
bed, but could detect no other presence in the room. Carefully, she sat  
up, looking around for any clues to jog her failing memory.  
  
As she explored the contents of the room, the details began trickling back  
to her. Of course, she was in Italy, with Kent, on their way to his place  
in Switzerland. He was having some sort of trouble with the arrangements,  
which had infuriated him but only amused her, and so they had been  
traveling far slower than he'd intended.  
  
But that didn't feel right either; it had a strange aura of true/not true  
that puzzled her ... her mental picture of 'Kent' in particular felt wrong;  
he shouldn't be quite so young, or so blond, but older, with dark hair ...  
and glasses.... For some reason she was suddenly afraid.  
  
Alright, she told herself, calm down. Start with what you know. My name  
is ... Wanda? Wanda Detroit, I'm a singer ... no ... that's not right.  
  
I'm not Wanda.  
  
My name is Lois Lane.  
  
With that one thought reality came crashing in on her, flooding over her  
like a tidal wave, and involuntarily, she whimpered. Memories of her  
family, her job, her friends hit her with stunning force, too quickly to be  
immediately comprehended. To survive the onslaught, she grabbed onto one  
face from the crowd, one person who could be her anchor -- Clark. Her  
partner, her husband.... She remembered teasing him at work, marrying him  
... being kidnapped away from him at the reception.  
  
She remembered Lex, then, as well, taunting her when she was kidnapped --  
he'd even tried to make her believe that she'd been kidnapped before the  
wedding, and replaced by a clone. Had they told Clark the same lie? She'd  
tried to get back to him, but then had hit her head. That must have been  
why she'd thought she was Wanda.  
  
Lex had taken advantage of that. Somehow, he'd known about her novel, and  
had set himself up as her love ... she remembered him kissing her, and the  
gorge rose in her throat. She stumbled into the private bath, fearing she  
was going to retch. She had to get out of here, needed to get back to  
Clark, but even Superman wouldn't be able to hear her scream from another  
continent. 'Calm down,' she told herself, firmly suppressing her imminent  
panic. 'You'll just have to use your wits -- you're not an investigative  
reporter for nothing.' She splashed some cool water on her face,  
determined not to lose control, but when she'd dried her eyes and put down  
the towel she received yet another shock.  
  
The face in the mirror wasn't her face. The woman looking back at her was  
blond, with blue eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips -- an attractive face ...  
but most definitely not the face of Lois Lane, Ace Reporter. Not even  
plastic surgery could do this, could it? And a quick pull verified that  
she was wearing no wig. So this must be ... the clone.  
  
Stunned, she sat on the edge of the tub. Yes, she remembered now. Lex had  
been afraid of pursuit, and Asabi had given him the answer -- soul  
transfers to new bodies for both him and her. As the jaded Wanda, she'd  
been amused by the idea -- "Just like that, I'm a blonde?" -- and had  
agreed to participate. The transfers had gone smoothly, and now she was  
permanently changed -- Lois on the inside, a stranger on the outside. She  
fought the temptation to cry.  
  
Another piece of the puzzle came into focus -- Lex's new body was the  
reason they'd been having such problems with travel arrangements. Lex held  
large cash reserves, and a network of contacts and flunkies, but he'd found  
it difficult to prove his new identity; no one wanted to risk angering the  
great Lex Luthor by believing this young blond upstart. And a good thing,  
too, Lois grimly acknowledged, or else they'd have been in Switzerland by  
now, and she would have had a great deal tougher time escaping.  
  
And escape she must. Lex may have destroyed her old life, but she'd rather  
start from scratch than live out her days with him. He was evil, and crazy  
... and smart, which would make things difficult.  
  
She put aside her emotions for a moment and forced herself to think  
logically. Lex had people watching her, she knew, but they didn't expect  
her to try anything, so slipping away should be easy. Staying away would  
be a great deal harder. Lex had connections throughout Europe, and she  
couldn't afford to assume that he'd be unable to use all of them. She knew  
where he kept his cash, so she could take that; it should be enough to lay  
some false trails as well as get her where she was going.  
  
Where *was* she going? Lex would expect her to head for Metropolis, so she  
shouldn't ... and yet she knew that was where she needed to be. She knew  
the city, from top to bottom, but more importantly, she knew Clark. If she  
could only get to Clark, he would help her.  
  
Even if he had no idea who she was.  
  
***  
  
--two weeks later--  
  
A frantic knocking on his door drew Clark Kent out of a deep and troubled  
sleep. He hadn't slept well for weeks, in fact, not since he'd found his  
fiancee's body in that underground lair that Lex had been using. Whenever  
he closed his eyes, he saw Lois lying lifeless on the cold ground, next to  
Lex. No one had been able to determine the cause of death, but that  
medical curiosity had hardly interested Clark, sunk so deeply in his grief.  
  
As he stumbled towards the door, straining to wake up, he checked the clock  
-- it was three in the morning. What could anyone want with him at this  
hour? Superman had been patrolling for days on end, until finally even he  
had been forced to rest -- and now whomever this was had disturbed that.  
He squinted towards the door before donning his glasses; his visitor was a  
woman he'd never seen before, and she looked agitated.  
  
He opened the door, irritated but trying to control it. "Yes, how can I  
help you?"  
  
She didn't answer at first, but instead flung herself against him, half  
hugging him, half pushing him back. After a brief moment, she released  
him, and turned wide, frightened eyes up at him. "God, Clark, close the  
door, I don't know how close they are behind me."  
  
Clearly she had lost her wits, whoever she was, but his mother's training  
stood fast. He closed the door, and turned back to her. "Would you care  
to ... sit down?" The question trailed away as he saw that she'd already  
made a beeline for his refrigerator.  
  
"I have just been dying for a cream soda," she announced, dragging out the  
one remaining can of the beverage. "Although that's a bad choice of words.  
Anyway, champagne is more in Lex's style." She carried the can over to his  
sofa and curled herself into a corner, proceeding to pop the can open and  
take a long swig.  
  
Clark sat in a chair opposite her, watching her drink. She was  
fair-haired, with blue eyes and shoulder-length hair. He was quite certain  
he'd never seen her before, but somehow she still seemed familiar. She was  
looking a little ragged, too, he gauged -- a bit undernourished and  
overstressed. She was still shivering a bit from the chilly night air.  
  
She sighed, half the drink gone, and glanced over at him. "I am so glad I  
caught you in tonight. I was afraid you'd be out, you know, and obviously  
I don't have my key anymore."  
  
She sketched a gesture in the air, and it took him a second to realize that  
it was the same motion he and Lois had used to reference his flying. He  
ignored that sally, uncertain how to deal with it. "Uh, miss, I'm not  
exactly sure what you're talking about, but--"  
  
She laughed, a little hysterical, then took a deep breath. "That's one of  
the things I love about you, Clark. You're so polite, even when you think  
a person's absolutely nuts."  
  
He frowned at her mention of love. "Who *are* you?"  
  
"Right, time to tell the story. Clark, you're not going to believe this."  
She looked him straight in the eye, setting down the can. "I'm Lois Lane.  
Lex kidnapped me right after the wedding, and I don't know what all  
happened to you, but obviously a lot has happened to me."  
  
His stomach felt cold. "You are not Lois Lane."  
  
She seemed prepared for his instinctive denial. "Not physically, no. But  
mentally, I am. Lex has a servant, back from when he was respectable --  
you know, when I was dating him, before you and Perry busted up the wedding  
-- and boy, do I have bad luck with weddings, if the third time isn't the  
charm, I should just live in sin ... um," she stopped herself, took another  
deep breath, and tried to get back on track. "Anyway, he has this servant,  
a guy named Asabi. He's some kind of Far East mystic, and he had some way  
to do a soul transfer, or at least that's what they called it. While I  
still thought I was Wanda, he transferred Lex and me to these new bodies --  
clones -- that they'd -- we'd -- stolen from STAR labs. Remind me to  
apologize to Dr. Klein for shooting him -- at least I think I shot him, my  
memory of that time is fuzzy."  
  
Clark sat back, dazed by this improbable tale. "No, that can't be true....  
You must be a plant, an agent of Luthor's -- even after his death he wants  
to torture me. Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
She shook her head gently. "Lex isn't dead, and neither am I. Changed,  
yes, but not *dead*. C'mon, Clark, we've thought Lex was dead before, and  
we were wrong. You thought *I* was dead, not too long ago, and you were  
wrong then, too."  
  
He glared at her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"  
  
She sighed wearily, losing some of the nervous energy that had been driving  
her, and resettled herself on the sofa. "Tim and Amber Lake, Clark. They  
set it up so that everyone thought Bad Brain had killed me, but instead,  
they put me in a cage, and used me to trap you."  
  
"The Lakes used you to trap Superman," he corrected her. She could have  
read that much in the newspaper.  
  
"Yes, and you are Superman. Not that you ever told me that, but I figured  
it out. And hey, that was another time I was presumed dead; back when you  
froze me to fool Jason Mazik. God, it's always something with us, isn't  
it?" Her eyes drooped shut.  
  
He still wasn't -- couldn't be -- convinced. Possibly it was some perverse  
scheme of Luthor's making -- the man had intended for him to believe that  
his wife had died soon after the wedding, after all, when the clone of Lois  
had ... expired. Or maybe this woman was just delusional, and had  
convinced herself of this absurd story. But whatever else she was, she was  
also utterly exhausted, in a way that couldn't be faked. And he needed  
rest, himself. She seemed to have fallen asleep right there on the couch;  
maybe she could stay there the rest of the night. He stood, intending to  
tip-toe his way back to the bedroom.  
  
That slight movement startled her awake. "Clark?" It was the plaintive,  
scared wail of a child, an instinctive appeal for reassurance.  
  
He held out a soothing hand, feeling a certain tenderness towards her in  
spite of himself. "It's all right. Get some sleep, okay? I won't let  
anything happen to you."  
  
She relaxed fractionally at that guarantee. "Thanks, Clark ... we can talk  
more in the morning, right? What day is it, anyway, do you have to go to  
work tomorrow?" At his head shake, she smiled tentatively. "Good night  
then ... I love you...."  
  
He flinched from that declaration, and her smile disappeared, leaving them  
frozen awkwardly in place until he finally turned and walked to the bedroom.  
  
*  
  
Lois Lane watched the love of her life leave the room and mourned silently  
for all she'd lost. Was there even a chance of regaining some portions of  
her former life? Her job, her family, her fish ... she could survive  
without any of them, but without Clark she would be utterly lost, and she  
knew it.  
  
The past few weeks had been nightmarish, from the moment when she'd woken  
up and remembered, for the first time, that she was Lois, not Wanda. In  
love with Clark, not with Lex. In the wrong city, with the wrong man, on  
the wrong continent. Escaping Lex had been difficult; he had been  
complacent about his victory, but he was still a very intelligent and  
observant man. Luckily for her, he seemed to expect her to be a little  
uncertain about things.  
  
When her chance had come, a day later, she'd taken it. Armed only with her  
new passport and several thousand dollars she'd stolen from Lex's travel  
fund, she had made her way back towards Metropolis. Uncertain of the  
extent of Lex's connections in Europe, she'd feared to take direct routes,  
and yet she longed with every fiber of her new body to be back home -- back  
in Clark's arms.  
  
It had been a nerve-wracking progress. Several times, she'd been aware of  
the hunters behind her, and Lex himself had nearly caught up with her in  
London, at Heathrow. The LexCorp employee there, however, had seen no  
reason to believe that the young man in front of him was *really* Lex  
Luthor, and had withheld his cooperation pending proof of identity. By the  
time that had been obtained, Lois had been safely aboard one of the many  
departing planes -- but not one of the several headed for Metropolis.  
  
Things had gone somewhat easier back in the United States, where her  
passport could no longer be tracked, but her funds had dwindled perilously  
low before she'd made it to Clinton Street. And yet her struggle was only  
begun. He didn't believe her. She could hardly blame him for that; she  
wouldn't have believed it herself, but part of her had foolishly hoped that  
he would somehow instantly sense her presence.  
  
***  
  
The next day dawned brighter than it had any right to, Clark decided  
irritably. Not that the sunlight would have awakened him if he'd been  
sleeping. He hadn't been able to relax, not when the woman in the other  
room claimed to be his fiancee. It was ridiculous, of course. Although  
there was something about her. Something about the look in her eyes....  
  
Abruptly, he scowled. He loved Lois, so he had no right to even think  
about other women, no matter what nonsense she spouted. He'd just have to  
send this woman on her way as soon as possible. She'd seemed scared of  
someone. That was probably a problem he could fix.  
  
A muted clang from the direction of the kitchen startled him out of his  
musing. Still wearing the t-shirt and boxers he'd slept in, he swung his  
legs out of bed and headed around the brick wall that set his bedroom off  
from the rest of the apartment.  
  
She was standing before the stove, frowning at the contents of his largest  
metal pot. Judging from the mess on the counter, she'd been up and about  
for some time, and he was surprised that he hadn't realized earlier that  
she was stirring. Normally he was hypersensitive to the presence of  
strangers in his home; he must have been more tired -- or preoccupied --  
than he'd thought.  
  
When she saw him, she smiled nervously, unable to conceal the flash of  
longing in her eyes. "I was, uh, well, I thought I'd try to cook  
breakfast. Only I don't really know how to cook anything but oatmeal ...  
and I tried to be quiet about it, although I don't know why I bothered,  
considering that you...." her voice trailed off as he advanced toward the  
stove. She backed off, giving him access to the pot.  
  
He pulled out a spoonful of her oatmeal, and let it drip messily back into  
the pot. His lips twitched involuntarily. "You never did know how to cook  
oatmeal."  
  
"I did so!" she replied, indignant, before latching on to his choice of  
pronouns. "You mean you believe that I'm Lois?"  
  
His smile vanished. "No, I don't. I can't."  
  
She reached out to touch his arm. "Clark, you have to believe me. I am  
Lois Lane, your partner, your wife, your little tornado..." She held his  
gaze, searching for some shred of recognition or acceptance. "After all  
the things we've been through -- perfume that makes people fall in love,  
Metallo (at least I'm completely organic!), ancient Druid powers, *full  
body* transplants -- can you deny that what I've told you is possible?"  
  
"I don't know, okay?" The words seemed wrung from him. "All I know is I  
*saw* her body. There was no way it was a trick; as much as I wanted to,  
there was nothing I could do to get her back." He turned away from her,  
pacing back toward the small balcony.  
  
"Clark, you *can* get me back." She followed him, standing at his side.  
"All you have to do is look me in the eyes, and let yourself believe what  
you see...."  
  
He shook his head blindly. He didn't know what her game was, but he  
refused to play it. He'd been hurt too badly. "I'm going out," he  
announced, turning away from her once more. He grabbed some clothing from  
his dresser and was out the door almost at superspeed.  
  
*  
  
Lois watched him go, unable to gather enough energy to protest. He wasn't  
even giving her a chance. What was she going to do? She wearily crossed  
to his sofa and huddled into one corner. Okay, this was going to take a  
while. She could handle it. She was one tough cookie. She'd been up  
against lots of challenges before, but she'd always survived, somehow.  
Even without Superman's help, she could survive this. And the first thing  
she'd need would be a place to stay, since her old apartment was obviously  
out of the question, and it would be too painful to stay with Clark, even  
if he'd let her. She needed a job, though. Even if she could persuade  
Perry to hire her, she didn't dare go to the Planet; it would be the second  
place Lex would look for her. Which was another reason she couldn't stay  
here.  
  
*  
  
Clark was barely out the door before he took off straight up. He didn't  
slow his ascent until the air was significantly thinner. He had to think.  
He hovered for a moment, breathing the cold air deeply, and found himself  
turning north and west. There was this clearing, in the Canadian Rockies  
... he'd be undisturbed there.  
  
He forced himself to consider the possibility of a soul transfer. It  
hardly seemed feasible, and yet, he had to admit she'd been right; it was  
by no means the strangest thing he'd ever encountered. Did people have  
souls? He had always supposed that they had, when he'd thought about it at  
all. Certainly there was something to make people different from one  
another, something that made people react differently to similar  
circumstances. He knew that everyone had unique brain wave patterns -- he  
could ask Dr. Klein to take a reading of this woman's brain ... but no one  
had ever taken a reading from Lois, so that wouldn't prove a thing.  
  
All right, suppose it was possible, in a theoretical sense. It was just  
the sort of thing Lex Luthor would take advantage of, he decided; Lex never  
missed a trick. (When Lex's empire had fallen, and his records were  
examined, even Clark had been shocked by the range and extent of the man's  
duplicity). If it *were* possible, then could this woman really be Lois?  
  
She knew a lot of things, things that hadn't made it into the paper, things  
that no one but he and Lois should know. She even seemed to know about  
Superman -- and strangest of all, he didn't mind her knowing.  
  
That was odd, now that he thought about it. Even though his conscious mind  
had been in turmoil, on a deeper level he'd been disturbingly comfortable  
with her presence. She shouldn't have been able to turn over on the sofa  
without him being aware of it, and yet she'd gotten up and made a mess of  
his kitchen without disturbing him. And he should have been worried sick  
about her knowledge of his secret. Either he was too tired and heart-sick  
to care ... or some part of him trusted her.  
  
Finally, there was the shock of recognition that he'd felt, both last night  
and again this morning. It was visceral, affecting him on a level so deep  
that he could barely feel it, and he'd only experienced it once before in  
his lifetime. Three years ago, at the Planet, when he'd first met Lois.  
  
He fought against accepting the notion. And yet, what made Lois unique was  
her personality, her character -- her soul. Her sense of humor, her fierce  
dedication to her profession, her stubborn determination to make the world  
a better place no matter what. All the things, he realized, that had been  
missing in her clone. He had, in effect, seen Lois' body with someone  
else's soul. Might he now have met her soul in another body?  
  
He was overwhelmed with longing to believe it ... to have Lois back with  
him, against all odds. He missed her with every fiber of his being, with  
an almost physical ache -- and yet, he couldn't allow himself to accept  
this fantastic story on faith. If he let himself believe, and later  
learned otherwise... it would be like losing her all over again, and he  
didn't think he could handle that.  
  
Clearly, the thing to do was to investigate ... find out what her story  
was. Surely, if she were lying, it would quickly become obvious. Yes, he  
thought with some relief, that would work. He could be detached,  
professional, and objective. Just as if the outcome wouldn't have a  
profound effect on his life.  
  
***  
  
Lois entered the dingy photo shop and looked around for the owner. All she  
saw was one greasy assistant. "Hey, is Hector here?"  
  
"In the back," the assistant answered, eyeing her lazily.  
  
"Well, I need to see him -- one of his special jobs."  
  
The counterman raised an eyebrow at that, but merely slipped out of his  
seat and disappeared into the back. In a moment, he reappeared. "C'mere."  
  
She submitted to a pat-down to prove that she was unwired and unarmed, then  
strode into the back room. "Hey, Hector," she greeted him. He was a  
swarthy little man who was basically decent, despite his various  
less-than-legal specialties.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Friend of Lois Lane's," she replied smoothly. She'd known him for some  
years, actually, and he'd occasionally given her some good information. In  
return for which, she hadn't ever mentioned his illegal activities to the  
police.  
  
He shrugged. "That's nice for you, but I meant what's your name?"  
  
"You tell me. I need a new identity -- social security number, birth  
certificate, the works." Hector could do fake ID's, but for more money, he  
could fix you up with legitimate records whose original owners had died in  
childhood. If one avoided certain background checks, that sort of identity  
could hold up for a long time.  
  
Hector squinted at her. "How old are ya?"  
  
"Low twenties will do." She was briefly amused at the idea of turning 25  
again.  
  
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Gotta check my files."  
  
Lois nodded, and found a relatively clean place to sit as she watched  
Hector rummage through his battered file cabinets. After a few minutes, he  
returned to the desk, several files in hand. "Pick one. For an extra  
fifty, I can get ya a driver's license."  
  
She inspected the folders, none of which contained much information. She  
hardly knew how to pick a new name for herself, although she supposed  
anything would be better than Wanda. But to make it easier, she only had a  
few choices. Marissa Secrist ... no, too frilly. Paula Bainbridge, well,  
it was okay. Caroline Ward ... that was nice. Dignified. But there was  
something not quite ... ah, she had it. She smiled grimly. She didn't  
like how it went with Kent. In that case, there was only one choice.  
"I'll be Paula Bainbridge, thanks." But not for long, she swore to  
herself. Before too much time had passed, she'd be Paula Kent. She  
refused to contemplate any other possibility.  
  
***  
  
When Clark returned to the apartment, she was gone. His immediate reaction  
was undiluted panic that he'd lost her (again, insisted some small part of  
his brain). That scared him more than anything else, that he might be  
falling for her act, her deception ... falling for her, period. He quickly  
banished the thought. This woman was most likely a nutcase, he told  
himself brutally. At best she was part of one of Lex's twisted schemes.  
If he felt anything at all for her, it was just a concern for her  
well-being. No different than the concern he had for any other Metropolis  
citizen. And yet.... Shaking his head at his own folly, he took off  
again, trying to locate one woman in a city of millions.  
  
***  
  
An hour later, Lois wearily trudged up to Clark's apartment door, realizing  
belatedly that she didn't have a key. Swell. She was pondering her  
options when the door was yanked open from the inside.  
  
"Where have you been?" demanded an agitated Clark. "I've been fl-- looking  
for you everywhere."  
  
Taken aback, she stared at him. "You worried about me?" Hope began to  
stir within her.  
  
"I--" he stopped, his face working through an unreadable combination of  
emotions. "I wanted to keep an eye on you, you said you were in danger."  
  
"Oh, yeah," she replied flatly, lowering her face to try to conceal the  
pain she knew was written there. She brushed past him into the apartment.  
"That. I was out trying to get a job."  
  
"You didn't go to the Planet?" He closed the door behind her.  
  
"No. I can't, yet. Perry doesn't know who I am, and Lex would find me. I  
just need something so I can get a place to stay." Just until I can  
convince you that I'm me, she didn't add aloud.  
  
"Ah," he replied. "Have you ... eaten anything? I can get takeout."  
  
She forced a social smile. "No, actually, so that sounds great." She sank  
down onto the couch, and politely pretended not to notice when he zipped  
out of the apartment and reappeared a minute later with two large bags of  
food.  
  
They spent a few companionable moments apportioning out lunch. Lois broke  
the silence. "So ... you've got to have questions."  
  
He nodded. "Yeah. How did ... this ... happen?" he asked, gesturing  
towards her new face and body.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure," she confessed. "I don't think I understood it at  
the time, and my memory is kinda patchy. It was something Asabi came up  
with -- he called it a soul transfer. We had these clone bodies -- one for  
Lex, and one for me." She shivered. "They were kinda creepy, just lying  
there -- they were alive, but ... empty. Anyway, Asabi did this ceremony,  
and we were supposed to close our eyes and meditate. I smelled some ...  
incense, or something ... and then there was a wave of dizziness, and then  
I heard someone telling me to wake up. When I opened my eyes ... I was  
like this." She felt tears prickle her eyelids. "I saw my body, lying  
there. Asabi said that our old bodies would just stop functioning, without  
our spirits in them Do you know what happened...?" She glanced hesitantly  
at him.  
  
A muscle was jumping in his jaw, but other than that his face was a mask of  
calm. "We buried Lois two days after we found the body. The autopsy  
called it heart failure, but by the time we found her ... I don't know how  
much they could have found."  
  
Lois shivered again, and took a deep breath and hurried on with her story.  
"After that, we just walked out, and left the country. We had false papers  
and no one recognized our faces, so there weren't any problems. Except,"  
she added, with a trace of dark humor, "that Lex had trouble convincing  
people who he was. That slowed us up in a number of places. It made him  
furious. I just laughed...." Her humor drained away. "I guess I'm paying  
for that now."  
  
She twisted her napkin in her lap. "Anyway, I finally realized who I was  
in Italy, and ran away from him. Took me over a week to get back to the  
States, and a couple more days to sneak into Metropolis. I don't think he  
knows I'm here yet -- I thought I saw one of his bully boys last night, but  
maybe I was imagining it. He'll be looking for me sooner or later. He has  
to know I'd come back here. That's why I'm staying away from the Planet,  
and my family, but Clark, I *know* this city. This morning, I got a new  
identity -- I'm now Paula Bainbridge, by the way -- and this afternoon I'll  
have to find a job of some sort. I don't know what, yet, but I'll find  
something." She vented a humorless laugh. "If nothing else, I know how to  
type."  
  
She looked up then, and found that he was watching her intently, his  
emotions hidden behind a bland surface. It unnerved her.  
  
"If you know Lex will be looking for you, why did you come here?"  
  
His facade of indifference was too much for her. "Because I *need* you,  
Clark! Not just to help me out with this, but in my life! I can deal with  
the rest of this mess but not without you...." She rose and approached  
him, holding out a hand, aching to touch him, to hold him and be held.  
"Clark, can't you tell that this is me here? Can't you just *feel* it?  
Please, try--"  
  
"No!" he interrupted roughly, his face twisting in sudden fury. "Look,  
whoever you are -- my fiancee died five weeks ago -- three days after we  
were supposed to have gotten married. She was kidnapped right out of the  
church, and I didn't even *know* about it for two days!" The words flowed  
out of him in an angry torrent, and he began to pace the floor, restlessly  
gesturing his hurt and frustration.  
  
Lois shrank into herself, letting him pour out his tension, reluctantly  
compelled to learn what he had experienced once she had been taken away.  
  
"She was replaced by a clone, you know. Looked just like her. On my  
wedding night, the night that was supposed to be the most perfect night of  
my life, it all started going wrong. She was tired, she was busy, she  
wanted Superman. I tried everything I knew, and nothing was working,  
nothing felt right.  
  
"Then I figured out why," he laughed darkly at his own foolishness. "It  
was because this woman wasn't my wife at all -- my Lois, the love of my  
life, the woman no one can ever replace," he emphasized with an angry look  
at his visitor, "had been stolen from me, and I didn't even know about it  
for two whole days!"  
  
Lois flinched at the rage in his voice. He was dangerously close to losing  
control.  
  
"And you know the real bitch of the matter?" He stared belligerently at  
her, and she hesitantly shook her head.  
  
"The thing is, I found her. She was ... confused, I think. She didn't  
know who she was, or who I was, although she pretended she did...." he  
frowned, still not quite sure what had transpired. "But it was her. I had  
her right there...." He pounded his fist on the back of a chair, not even  
pausing when it collapsed from the blow, his eyes closed in anguish, his  
hands reaching out in vain to change the past.  
  
When he finally spoke again, his voice was subdued, all passion drained away.  
  
"She didn't want to come with me. That killed me. For a moment, I almost  
believed ... and she got away again. The next time I saw her, she was  
dead." He stumbled backwards and sat down on the step, burying his face in  
his hands.  
  
Lois drew in a long, shaky breath, fighting tears. This ordeal had been  
hard on her, but it had been no easier on him. "Oh, Clark," she murmured  
sorrowfully.  
  
He looked up, startled by the reminder of her presence, and she was chilled  
by the rejection she saw in his eyes.  
  
"Go." One word, implacable.  
  
"I'm going," she replied, willing to give him the time and space to recover  
from this outburst, knowing that he could not yet accept comfort from her.  
"I'll let you know where to find me."  
  
He watched, silent and unmoving, as she let herself out of the apartment.  
  
*  
  
After she'd gone, Clark remained still, staring at nothing. Finally, he  
moved, retreating to the bedroom. Sitting on the side of the bed, he  
reached for the picture that was lying face down on the headboard. It was  
one of the few pictures to survive the clone's destructive fit of jealousy;  
a shot of Lois smiling proudly. He studied it for a long time before  
speaking.  
  
"I don't know how to live without you, Lois," he admitted softly. "I can't  
work, I can't eat. Superman is on autopilot and frankly, he's starting not  
to care. Without you ... what's the point?"  
  
He stared at the picture, hoping for an answer, but none came, just  
fragments of memories of their time together. Fragments that seemed to  
blur in his mind, as his eyes grew heavy. He laid back on the bed, holding  
the picture against his chest, a poor substitute for the real thing. But  
the emotional outburst, on top of his previous exhaustion, had worn him  
out, and before he knew it, he was deeply asleep.  
  
***  
  
Late that afternoon, Lois left the temporary services' office with a new  
appreciation for the problems of the homeless. She couldn't get a job  
without an address ... but she couldn't get a place to stay without money.  
Luckily, she had a little money left -- enough to pay for a week's stay at  
the Apollo Hotel, anyway, but it didn't leave her much cash left over to  
eat, or buy a change of clothes. She sighed, and set off walking towards  
the hotel. Somehow, she'd manage to make it long enough to convince Clark  
-- she just wished she knew how long that was going to be.  
  
She wasn't sure what more she could do to prove herself to him. She'd  
already mentioned a number of things that no one else should know about,  
but it was obvious that he was in no mood to listen. At this point, she  
thought to herself with grim humor, he probably wouldn't accept a signed  
affidavit from God. Until that changed, she would just have to survive as  
best as she could.  
  
Not for the first time, she wondered if she should have gone to Smallville  
instead of Metropolis. Her own parents would never believe her, and this  
was undoubtedly beyond Jonathan's realm of experience, but Martha might be  
able to deal with it. It was too late to travel there now, but perhaps she  
could call them from Clark's apartment. Apart from his stubborn refusal to  
believe her, he was being very kind. Assuming that last outburst hadn't  
changed his mind ... worried, she changed course and headed towards Clinton  
Street.  
  
As she threaded her way through the early evening crowd of pedestrians, her  
thoughts turned to the problem of clothes. She had one pair of jeans and  
two shirts ... and the woman at the temp agency had strongly hinted that  
jeans were not appropriate office attire. Maybe Clark still had some of  
her old clothes. Not that they'd fit very well; her new body was somewhat  
taller, and differently proportioned, but--  
  
Her musings were abruptly interrupted when a hand gripped her elbow. A  
familiar, hated voice hissed, "Ah, there you are, my dear. I've been  
looking all over for you."  
  
***  
  
Clark woke up slowly, savoring the remnants of a pleasant dream. He'd have  
to tell Lois -- abruptly, he remembered that she was gone. He waited,  
resigned, for the crushing load of guilt and grief to descend, but ... it  
didn't. In its place, he felt a strange sense of peace.  
  
A number of people had told him that time healed all wounds, and perhaps  
they were right. Or maybe by finally venting his feelings, he was now  
better able to deal with them. Whatever the cause, he was grateful that  
his heartache had eased and his head had cleared.  
  
Actually, the heartache had started to improve late last night -- when the  
woman calling herself Lois had barreled into his life. Now that his mind  
was calmer, he was more able to evaluate her story. Dispassionately, he  
reviewed everything she'd said -- the things no one else could have known.  
Without the distracting storm of emotion, her story was not only plausible,  
it looked pretty convincing. He felt hope rising within him -- might he be  
able to get Lois back?  
  
Her body was gone, of course, and he was going to miss it ... but the new  
one had its good points, too. And the real reason he loved her had nothing  
to do with the external, anyway. The only important thing about a body was  
that it be healthy.  
  
He worried for a moment, remembering how the clone of Lois had just --  
stopped functioning, shortly after leading them to Lex's underground  
hideout. Would this new clone body also wear out that quickly? If she  
died again, so soon, it would be even worse than discovering that she was a  
fake. But no, she'd said that Lex Luthor was also in a clone body; he  
wouldn't sentence himself to death like that.  
  
His relief was abruptly overshadowed by fear. Lois had said that Lex was  
hunting her ... and she was out there, alone, unprotected. As fast as  
thought, he was dressed as Superman and heading out over the city. He had  
to find her.  
  
***  
  
"Get your hands off me," Lois spat, turning to face Lex and wrenching her  
arm free of his grasp. She cursed herself for having let down her guard,  
but the adrenaline coursing through her veins gave her courage.  
  
He stepped back, a look of mock surprise on his face. "Aren't you happy to  
see me?" His expression hardened. "You've led me a pretty dance, my dear,  
but it's over now. Klaus, grab her." He nodded to his companion, a burly  
young man, who moved towards her.  
  
Lois stepped back, and laughed aloud. She had few options, she knew, but a  
bold gamble might yet pay off. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she  
stated loudly. "What are you going to do, kidnap me off the street? It's  
daylight in a respectable neighborhood, you idiot."  
  
Lex frowned at the passers-by, and motioned for Klaus to desist, which he  
did with poorly suppressed relief.  
  
"Is he all the muscle you have, 'Kent'?" Lois asked, taunting him with the  
name he'd given her.  
  
He scowled. "Don't call me that. Kent is a nobody. I know you've regained  
your memory, Lois, so let's not pretend anymore."  
  
"Fine by me," she retorted. "But for the record, Clark Kent is three times  
the man you'll ever be. You're not worthy to shine his shoes."  
  
Lex's scowl deepened. "Don't do this, Lois. Just come with me quietly,  
and no one will get hurt."  
  
She shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? You managed to mess up my  
life pretty thoroughly, but I'd rather die than go with you."  
  
"That can be arranged," he answered quietly, reaching into his coat's  
inside pocket to produce a small handgun, pointed right at her.  
  
Lois felt her heart rate accelerate, but stood her ground. If she went  
with him, she was as good as dead anyway -- worse than dead. "You really  
want to shoot me in public, Lex? You're going to shoot me yourself? How  
sloppy. How very ... inelegant. People have noticed you harassing me.  
The police are probably already on their way. There will be *witnesses*,"  
she emphasized with a manic gleam in her eye, enjoying this in a crazy way.  
"And those witnesses will *testify* against you. You're not the man you  
used to be. You haven't got the social status you once had. You're going  
to go to a very common prison for *very* stupid criminals. Goodbye, Lex.  
I am never going anywhere with you again." She turned, still high on  
adrenaline, and began walking away, her head held high.  
  
"Don't make me do this, Lois," he pleaded softly, a note of real agony in  
his voice.  
  
She knew what was coming, but kept walking. Sometimes there were no good  
choices. Then she heard the gun fire.  
  
*  
  
Clark poured on an extra burst of speed, grateful for a break in the flow  
of people walking, and caught the bullet microseconds before it hit Lois  
square between the shoulderblades. He soared sharply upwards, to avoid  
hitting any of the cars in the busy street, then controlled his flight  
enough to swoop downwards once more, snatching the gun before it could be  
fired again. Then he slowed, and descended, his arms crossed and his face  
as menacing as he could make it.  
  
A thin blond man stood gaping at his empty hand, then looked upwards, his  
eyes narrowing in fury. "You! You'll pay for this, you interfering  
blockhead!"  
  
"The lady doesn't want to go with you," Clark replied with forced mildness.  
He had located Lois by hearing her tirade, and part of him had enjoyed it  
very much, even as the rest of him had feared for her life.  
  
"Do you know who I am?" Lex demanded, his calm facade crumbling.  
  
"Yes," Clark replied, noting that Lois was now standing next to him, facing  
her nemesis. "You're a pathetic old man who can't take no for an answer."  
He looked up as a siren blared briefly, announcing the arrival of a pair of  
police officers.  
  
They jumped out of their squad car and approached quickly, hailing him with  
friendly waves. "Superman, what's going on?"  
  
Clark smiled grimly. "Hello, officers, I'm glad you're here. This man  
just attempted a murder. She's the intended victim."  
  
The larger of the two officers got a grip on Lex, and his partner turned to  
Lois. "Do you know him, ma'am?"  
  
She looked at Lex for a long moment, then smiled maliciously. "Never seen  
him before. He tried to mug me, but he wasn't very good at it. Then he  
pulled out a gun."  
  
Superman presented the gun, and the policeman wrapped it in cloth as  
evidence. "Well, I'm sure we can get a few witnesses, and with Superman's  
testimony, it should be a pretty easy conviction."  
  
Lex had listened thus far in seething silence, but this was too much for  
him. "Convict me? You morons, you can't do this to me. I am Lex Luthor,  
and I will not be going back to prison!"  
  
The officer holding him tightened his grip. "Uh-huh, sure you are. And  
I'm Kate Winslet." He looked over at his partner. "Maybe you'd better  
call Bellevue, and tell them we've got one incoming."  
  
"A psychiatric hospital?" Lex raved, all control disintegrated. "You  
wouldn't dare. Klaus--" he looked around wildly, but Klaus seemed to have  
disappeared. "I will *not* be imprisoned!" With a fierce burst of  
strength, he broke free from the policeman's grip, and dashed away, into  
the street.  
  
Clark sighed. Would people never learn? He exchanged a long-suffering  
look with the officers, then turned ... just in time to see Lex run in  
front of a bus. Neither he nor the bus driver had a chance to prevent the  
inevitable, and Lex disappeared underneath the wheels with a sickening thud.  
  
Next to him, Clark sensed more than saw Lois start to wobble, and he  
extended a steady arm. She grabbed it, gratefully, and looked across the  
street, wide-eyed. "Oh, my...."  
  
The police officers crossed the street, stopping traffic as they went, and  
inspected the body. The officer who'd previously talked to Lois returned.  
"He's gone, ma'am. I'll need your address for my accidental death report."  
  
Clark spoke up, "She's staying with Clark Kent," and rattled off his  
address. "What's going to happen next?"  
  
The officer shrugged. "We'll try to identify him, see if any relatives  
want to claim the body. If not ... there's a common grave down in the  
Hobbs Bay area. He'll probably get dumped there. Saves us court costs, I  
guess. You're free to go, ma'am. We'll call you if we need you, but I  
doubt we will. Thanks for the help, Superman." Tipping his hat, the  
officer walked back across the street to deal with the legalities of death.  
  
Clark tried to feel sadness or regret at his arch-enemy's death, but  
couldn't quite manage it. He felt Lois sway, once more, and turned to see  
her face contorted as she struggled to control herself. "Are you okay?" he  
asked quietly.  
  
She nodded violently. "I'm fine, it's just..." a half-hysterical giggle  
slipped out, followed by a hiccuping sob. She clasped a hand over her  
mouth to try to contain her reactions. "Get me out of here," she hissed,  
on the verge of losing it altogether.  
  
Obviously, the stress of the last few days -- weeks -- was catching up to  
her. Add in a near-death experience and the sudden shock of her  
tormentor's death ... Clark had seen stronger people go to pieces with less  
reason. He scooped her up and took off; she clung tightly to him, burying  
her face in his shoulder, shaking in his arms.  
  
He headed straight for his apartment, letting go of her only long enough to  
change into a more comfortable outfit. Lois stood in the living room,  
sniffling, wiping her eyes, and trying valiantly to pull herself together.  
He gathered her into a hug and carried her to the sofa. "It's okay, Lois,  
let it all out," he murmured, rubbing her back.  
  
"I don't know what's the matter," she whispered, holding herself stiffly in  
his arms. "It's just that he was going to -- and then, a *bus* -- and--"  
  
"I know. It's all right. You're safe now."  
  
At last, she relaxed, her sobs returning. She burrowed into his embrace,  
pouring out the tension of the past few weeks. Gradually, her sobs quieted  
as she fell asleep. Clark held her, and grieved with her, and was quietly  
thankful that somehow, despite it all, they were together again.  
  
He didn't quite know how they would face the future, or if they could ever  
return to even a semblance of their previous lives. At least he had her  
back -- and he would sacrifice anything he had to, in order to keep her.  
The most important thing was that they were together once more. Next to  
that, nothing mattered.  
  
THE END  
  
but there is a sequel -- "Being Lois Lane" :-)  
  
  



	2. Being Lois Lane

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you've seen on TV, and the basic idea for this story was taken from a situation in the episode "Seconds".  
  
This is the immediate sequel to "Just Like That...?". I owe thanks to all  
of the regulars on Zoomway's fanfic boards http://www.zoomway.com/boards, and I owe an extra debt to my volunteer editors: Chris, Wendy, Marnie, Joy, Julie, and Merry. Thank you all.  
  
For all three of you who will notice g I used different symbols to break  
up scenes: *** indicates a scene change; * indicates a POV shift within a  
scene. Comments always welcome, good, bad, or indifferent.  
  
______________  
  
BEING LOIS LANE  
by Pam Jernigan jernigan@bellsouth.net  
Rated PG  
Submitted November 1999  
______________  
  
  
Lois woke slowly, aware of a blessed sense of safety. For the first time  
in weeks, she could relax. Lex could no longer hurt her, and Clark ...  
well, she suspected he might believe her now. She had a vague memory of  
him carrying her to the bed, sometime after she'd fallen asleep in his  
arms. And he'd stayed in bed next to her through the night, holding her  
close, keeping her safe.  
  
She opened her eyes, confirming that she was lying in Clark's bed. It  
seemed to be fairly early in the morning, judging by the angle of the sun,  
but then, she'd fallen asleep pretty early the night before. She turned  
her head to see Clark lying next to her, and had to smile. Even the back  
of his head was adorable. She wished that she felt confident enough of him  
to cuddle up behind him, but she just couldn't take the risk of rejection.  
  
He had every reason to think she was crazy. She looked nothing like  
herself, anymore -- this clone body was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and  
looked barely old enough to have graduated college. And this business of  
transferring a person's soul from one body to another ... well, if she  
hadn't experienced it personally, she wouldn't have believed it either.  
  
He'd seemed sympathetic enough last night, on the street, after Lex had  
tried to kill her. Of course, some of that was probably just his Superman  
persona at work ... but he had seemed to enjoy taunting Lex. And since Lex  
had also been in a clone body, wouldn't it follow that if Clark had  
believed Lex, he should also believe her? Too, he had acted differently,  
back at the apartment ... but then again she'd been just about to fall  
apart at the time; she didn't really remember much of what he'd said, and  
she couldn't trust her impressions.  
  
She rolled her eyes, disgusted at herself. Speculation never got anyone  
anywhere; she needed to go to the source. Even if he didn't believe her  
yet, he was probably well on his way, so she had nothing to fear. Right?  
Right. She propped herself up on one elbow, facing Clark, and nerved  
herself to shake his shoulder.  
  
He rolled over towards her, his eyes opening slowly. As he focused on her,  
he frowned briefly in confusion, then smiled sleepily. "Morning, Lois."  
  
His matter-of-fact tone momentarily robbed her of speech. She bit her  
lower lip in wonder and relief. "You called me Lois."  
  
He propped his head up on his elbow. "Well, that's who you are, isn't it?"  
He grinned wryly. "The packaging is a little different, I grant you...."  
  
She managed to smile at that, both elated and humbled that he had made this  
leap of faith. At his comment about her appearance, a new worry surfaced.  
"Yeah, about that ... what do you think? I'm sure it'd look better with  
some decent makeup; I'm kind of a wreck right now..."  
  
He traced a finger lightly over her nose and jawline, then smiled. "You're  
beautiful," he replied firmly. "Yeah, you've changed ... but it's still  
you, inside ... and that means you're beautiful."  
  
Lois blinked back tears. "I love it when you lie to me," she said softly,  
a smile playing around her mouth.  
  
He leaned over and put his arm around her waist, gently dragging her across  
the bed towards him. When she arrived at his side, giggling softly at his  
strong-arm tactics, he grinned, then leaned down to kiss her. She returned  
the kiss with all the pent-up passion of the last few days, reveling in the  
ability to express her love for him once more.  
  
Eventually, they parted, and Clark looked down at her with a slightly  
unfocused gaze. "Wow. Oh, Lois, I missed you." He rolled onto his back,  
pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder. "And it feels so good to  
hold you again..."  
  
*  
  
They stayed like that for some time, as they wordlessly reconnected, but  
Clark couldn't help worrying about the future, trying to work his way  
around the many obstacles they still faced. Surely they didn't want to  
publicize the clone story, so they were stuck with her new identity as  
"Paula Bainbridge" and yet, none of their relatives or friends would accept  
that Clark had fallen for someone else this quickly. Maybe he could just  
announce that he was taking off to tour the world, and come back a few  
years later with a new wife ... or maybe he should know better than to try  
to make decisions for Lois. They needed to talk about this.  
  
Clark pulled back just far enough to be able to see her face. "Lois, it  
was a miracle that I got you back, and believe me, I'm grateful ... but  
where do we go from here?" He shrugged helplessly, waving a hand to  
indicate the rest of their lives. "What's our game plan?"  
  
"Always with the sports metaphors." She grinned, briefly distracted.  
"Good to know *some* things don't change."  
  
Clark smirked. "Just trying to make you feel comfortable."  
  
"Oh, thanks so much..." she rolled her eyes, but couldn't disguise a smile.  
"Actually, I've been thinking a lot about plans." She sighed. "I hate  
having to plan. Mostly, I was figuring out how to survive without you, but  
now that I don't have to worry about that ... you're right, we have some  
choices to make. For one thing..." she trailed a finger along his arm, not  
meeting his eyes, "physical appearances can be changed. I mean, I could  
dye my hair brown, and get colored contacts ... They're doing amazing  
things with plastic surgery, even -- remember the time Ariana Carlin had  
that girl made to look just like me? It would cost a lot of money, but..."  
her voice trailed off uncertainly.  
  
Clark leaned back, so he could get a good look at her. While his heart was  
certain that this was Lois, and his brain agreed, his eye was still  
surprised with every glance, and part of him desperately wanted everything  
to go back just the way it had been. Her new appearance would be a  
constant reminder of their ordeal. But could he ask her to go to so much  
trouble to change her appearance? She would, in effect, be in disguise all  
the time. As if her new body were somehow inferior. Sooner or later, that  
would have to affect her -- make her feel as if *she* were inferior. Clark  
had a sudden flash of how he might feel if he were to become Superman  
full-time, never able to show his true face to anyone. He couldn't do that  
to her.  
  
"Well," he replied slowly, choosing his words carefully, "if you *want* to  
do any of that, I guess you can. But ... it seems to me that it'd be an  
awful lot of trouble to go to -- not to mention the physical risks of  
surgery -- when the results would almost certainly not be worth it. Lois,  
I love you because you're smart, and determined, and fiercely loyal, and  
have so much love hiding inside ..."  
He tipped her chin up so that he could see her eyes. "That's the sort of  
thing that matters. I admit I liked the brown hair and fantastic body," he  
grinned slightly, trying to lighten the moment, and she had to smile in  
return. "But this new body of yours really isn't bad at all, and you know  
I've always had a weakness for blondes...."  
  
Her smile broadened to a grin at that, and she playfully smacked his shoulder.  
  
"But it's your decision," he hastily concluded, "because it is your body."  
  
She shrugged, smiling just a little. "You're the one who has to look at  
it. And if you don't mind that ... then I guess I'm okay with it too."  
She paused. "I might try dyeing my hair, for a while. Although on the  
other hand, I tried that when I was younger, and it was an incredible pain  
-- always worrying about my roots, and having to re-color it every month or  
so -- and then if you want to grow it out, it just looks really weird for  
months. Not to mention that it's bad for your hair, and I haven't even had  
this hair very long yet, so I don't even know what kind of care it needs  
when it's *not* color treated."  
  
Clark controlled a smile. As she said, it was good to know some things  
didn't change. "Whatever you decide is fine with me, Lois. As long as  
you're healthy." He paused, as doubt assailed him. "You are healthy,  
right?"  
  
"I'm a little malnourished right now, but I'm really in excellent shape."  
She grimaced. "Lex chose our new bodies carefully. In fact..." she  
hesitated, and ducked her head, addressing her next remark to the sheets.  
"He was planning to marry me when we got to Switzerland, you know."  
  
Clark felt himself tense, but willed himself to remain calm. This was all  
past history. It was just that the thought of Lex touching Lois -- in any  
body -- was enough to make him angry and sick all at once.  
  
She seemed to understand his distress, and hastened to reassure him, laying  
a comforting hand on his chest. "It's okay, Clark. See, the thing is,  
with these new bodies ... we were both ... well, technically, anyway ... we  
were virgins again. Not that I ever had sex with him in my old body  
either," she added quickly.  
  
"I know, you told me," he affirmed. "But what does that have to do with it?"  
  
"Well, see, the idea of being a virgin on his wedding night -- for once in  
his life, he said -- it amused him. He was looking forward to it ... and  
it's a good thing, too, because *Wanda* didn't care...." she shuddered.  
"But anyway, I don't have any really horrible memories to deal with."  
  
"So you mean, you and he...?" he asked, delicately.  
  
"Didn't do anything," she replied firmly.  
  
"Thank God," he breathed, holding her a little closer. "I would have  
understood, you know, and we would have dealt with it ... but I'm *really*  
glad we don't have to."  
  
She snorted agreement. "You and me both. But the rest of that story is,  
this body is supposed to be fully functional, according to Lex. I should  
have a normal lifespan." She paused as a huge yawn overtook her. "Longer  
than before, actually, since physiologically I'm now 22 again."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "As long as you don't plan on ditching me in favor  
of Jimmy."  
  
She laughed at that. "In his dreams!"  
  
The sound of a distant siren caught Clark's attention, and he raised his  
head to try to listen for more details. When he looked down at Lois again,  
she was smiling faintly.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Warehouse fire down by the harbor." The fire department might be able to  
handle it themselves, he supposed.  
  
"I guess you'd better go, then." She shrugged philosophically. "I bet it  
won't take you long."  
  
Clark still hesitated, reluctant to leave her. "Promise you won't go  
anywhere?"  
  
She smiled serenely. "I may not even leave the bed."  
  
Another siren joined the first, and Clark had to go, but he took the time  
to kiss her goodbye on his way out.  
  
*  
  
Lois watched him streak away, and grinned. All was normal in her world ...  
well, almost all. And it was too early in the morning to be awake by  
herself, so she rolled over and tried to recapture sleep.  
  
Half an hour later she conceded failure, and sat up. She stretched, and  
was reminded that she was still wearing last night's clothes. She decided  
to take advantage of Clark's absence to take a shower -- it had been a  
little too long since her last one.  
  
She took her time in the shower, enjoying the unlimited hot water. When  
she finally emerged from the bathroom, she found him in the kitchen, with  
some promising white paper sacks, which claimed her immediate attention.  
"Ooh -- are those from that little French place?"  
  
"Yep, I thought you'd recognize them," he chuckled, leaning against the  
countertop. "They're not quite as fresh as I'd like -- after all, it's  
afternoon in Europe now -- but the one I had was pretty good. I got an  
assortment for you."  
  
She crossed the kitchen and indulged in a quick hug and kiss. "Mmm, they  
smell great." She started to reach for the closest bag, but stopped, as the  
too-long sleeve of the robe flopped down past her fingertips. "Let me get  
dressed." She frowned, and sighed. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing  
your clothes again, because I sure don't have anything clean to wear."  
  
He grinned. "You do now. I picked up two sets of clothes that should fit  
you. They're in the bedroom."  
  
She beamed up at him. "Have I ever told you you're my hero?"  
  
Clark chuckled at that, and kissed her again. "Frequently. But don't feel  
you have to stop."  
  
"Nothing is going to stop me, Clark; you should know that by now." Smiling  
serenely, she ducked into the bedroom and quickly dressed. She ran her  
hands through her hair once more, but then gave up the attempt at  
hairstyling -- Clark obviously didn't have a curling iron or blow dryer.  
Although, she grinned, he'd probably dry her hair with heat vision if she  
asked him. Never mind. She'd do fine with the natural look.  
  
She hastened back out to the kitchen and joined Clark at the table,  
devouring two croissants and a pastry in short order. At Clark's inquiring  
glance, she mumbled defensively, "I was hungry. Besides," she continued  
caustically, "I spent way too much time dieting and denying myself in my  
other body, and look where *that* got me." Judging by the faintly alarmed  
look on Clark's face, he was picturing not only a young blond wife, but a  
young blond *fat* wife. She grinned, then relented. "I'm going to take  
care of myself, Clark. As soon as I get a moment, I'll get a checkup,  
cholesterol check, and all that stuff. Heck, I don't even know what my  
blood type is now. In the meantime, though, I just want to recover from  
the last few weeks."  
  
"What?" He looked puzzled. "I didn't mean -- I just want to make sure  
you're okay," he explained. "But you're right; I thought you looked pretty  
worn out when you first showed up ... what was it, just yesterday morning?  
Seems like so much longer than that, somehow."  
  
"Well, a lot's happened." She sighed, and slumped back in her chair. "And  
there's still a lot to do."  
  
Clark moved his chair around to her side of the table and took her hand in  
a comforting grip. "We can do it; together we can do anything."  
  
She smiled at him. "I know. And it won't get any easier by putting it  
off, worse luck. So ... we have to decide what to do about work."  
  
"I've been thinking about that," Clark offered. "We could leave  
Metropolis, and get jobs somewhere else. Philadelphia, maybe; it's close  
enough that Superman wouldn't have to move the same time we did. You've  
lost your resume, unfortunately, but the Inquirer's been wanting to hire me  
for a while now, and I could probably slide you in as my partner."  
  
"That rag?" She stared up at him in amazement.  
  
"What? Oh, not the National Enquirer, Lois," he laughed. "The  
Philadelphia Inquirer, which is a very respectable paper; they win Kerths  
and Pulitzers almost as often as the Planet."  
  
"Oh, right. Well, I guess we could do that ... but I think I'd like to try  
talking to Perry, first." She squeezed his hand. "I know I can't just get  
my old life back ... everyone knows I'm dead, or thinks so anyway. And  
they're probably going to think *you're* on the rebound, to hook up with  
"Paula Bainbridge" so quickly. But I want to talk to Perry, and Jimmy, and  
maybe one or two others, and try to convince them. They deserve to know.  
And maybe Perry'll hire me, as Paula, to be your partner."  
  
"Hmm ... it's worth a try. It might be rough, at first; people might not  
like you trying to replace the great Lois Lane."  
  
She sighed. "I know. But heck, none of them really *liked* me anyway,  
back from when I was horrible to everyone. If I'm nicer this time, maybe  
they'll forgive me. And I know I can do the work, so that's not a problem."  
  
"Hey, hey, it was never that bad." Clark reached out to give her a  
one-handed neck rub. "A lot more people liked you than you think. The  
turnout at your funeral was very impressive," he added with macabre cheer.  
  
She had to chuckle at that. "Sorry I missed it."  
  
"It would have been a lot more fun with you there," he admitted, then  
firmly left the topic behind. "Whether we go back to the Planet or  
somewhere else, I'm with you all the way."  
  
She smiled up at him. "Good to know. And speaking of knowing things," her  
smile faltered, "I don't know if you know this -- I got the impression that  
you didn't -- but while I missed the funeral, I was there for the wedding."  
She reached out to touch his leg lightly. "They snatched me at the  
reception, and when I first woke up, my memory was fuzzy -- Lex told me  
that he'd done the switch before the ceremony, so maybe they told you that,  
too ... but later, I remembered walking down the aisle with Daddy, and  
Perry doing the ceremony, and taking all those pictures afterwards...." her  
voice trailed off as her eyes searched his for reaction.  
  
Clark felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. For weeks, he'd  
agonized over how he could have taken hours to notice that Lois was gone --  
how he could have kissed the clone and not instantly realized the deception.  
  
"Clark?" Lois asked softly, and he started, realizing that she was still  
watching him in concern. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm not sure ... I think so." He smiled wryly. "I wasn't quite as stupid  
as I thought, which is always good to know."  
  
"Don't beat yourself up, Clark," she advised with a hint of laughter in her  
voice. "It took me two *years* to figure out what Superman did in his  
spare time."  
  
Clark chuckled at the unexpected comparison, as some of his guilt slipped  
away. "Well, I guess it doesn't make any difference, legally, but my  
memories of the ceremony will be a lot more pleasant now, I can tell you."  
  
"Yeah, I know." A look of mischief crossed her face. "Did you get the  
wedding portraits back yet? We should hang one in the living room. We can  
tell people that was your first wife, and make up stories about what a  
witch she was."  
  
"Lois!" A choke of laughter escaped him before he sobered. "Does this mean  
you forgive me for letting you go through all this?"  
  
"You didn't do it all yourself, Clark -- and there were a few things I  
should have handled better, myself." She grinned suddenly. "When you  
think about it, a lot of it was my fault, for having written such a  
horrible novel."  
  
He shook his head at that, but she held up a hand to forestall any comment.  
  
"It's okay, Clark. We're together again. That's all that really matters.  
So let's just forgive ourselves and each other, and go on from here, okay?"  
  
He sighed, considering this. He was amazed at how quickly she seemed to  
have recovered ... then again, she'd had a head start on him. And if she  
could forgive his blunders, perhaps he should forgive himself too. It  
certainly wasn't a topic he enjoyed thinking about. "Okay, it's a deal.  
So what do you say -- let's get married."  
  
Lois grinned at him. "Now, that was a lovely proposal."  
  
"Hey, I did the down-on-one-knee thing and you turned me down flat!" Clark  
laughingly protested.  
  
"I didn't say no, I said not yet; get your facts straight, Kent, or I'll go  
to work for the Star and beat you out of next year's Kerths."  
  
"No, no, don't do that! Perry would kill me -- and *I* haven't got any  
spare bodies lying around!"  
  
She rolled her eyes, enjoying the banter. "Excuses, excuses. But I'll  
take pity on you ... I'll marry you. Again."  
  
"Married out of pity," he moaned, clutching his heart dramatically. "How  
can I stand it?"  
  
She lifted an eyebrow at his theatrics. "Well, if you'd rather not--"  
  
"No, no," he interrupted, smoothing his face into a parody of seriousness,  
with just a hint of lechery thrown in. "I'll take you any way I can get  
you."  
  
"Ah, that's the attitude I like to see," she grinned. "So ... know anybody  
who could fly me to Las Vegas? We could get a mariachi band, a few amiable  
passers-by ... I can see it now." She pantomimed gesturing to unknown  
persons across the room. "Hey, you, wanna come to a wedding? Yeah, I'm a  
clone, and he's an alien; it should be fun!"  
  
Clark laughed. "Obviously we were made for each other."  
  
"Yeah, we were..." she paused, watching him, feeling a wave of love towards  
him that almost choked her in its intensity. He caught the look, and  
returned it. She leaned forward, and he met her halfway for a long, sweet  
kiss.  
  
Clark eventually drew back, taking a deep breath and blinking. "Well.  
Where were we?"  
  
She thought back for a moment. "On our way to Vegas, I think. If you're  
sure...? It'll look awful for you to marry again this quickly, you know.  
I saw some of the tabloid coverage..." There had been some fairly lurid  
and horrible stories covering the Clark-Lois-Lex debacle.  
  
Clark shook his head firmly. "Let them say what they want. I know I'm not  
doing anything wrong, so the worst they can say is that I'm being an idiot.  
Which is none of their business. And there is nothing I'd like more," he  
reached over to cup her face with his hand, "than to marry you. We can  
have a reception with our family and friends later, after we've told them  
about you, but I don't want to wait."  
  
She smiled helplessly, tilting her head into his palm, unable to argue  
this. "Let's go, then."  
  
"Okay." He spun into his Superman suit, and scooped her up. "On the way,  
we can decide what sort of chapel we want. Any preferences?" He floated  
her over to the balcony, paused to lock the door behind him, and lifted off  
slowly.  
  
"No, not really, anything will do." She broke into a sudden grin. "As  
long as it's *not* Blue Suede Deliverance!"  
  
***  
  
Late that night, Lois lay in bed cuddled next to her new husband, wearing  
nothing but a wedding ring and a pensive expression. "Does this seem a  
little unreal to you? I spent the last two weeks trying desperately to get  
here -- but I never really thought further than that. So now ... it's like  
I've stepped off a cliff -- I don't know what's going to happen next, and  
it's making me feel very unsettled."  
  
His arms tightened around her. "You know I'd never let you fall."  
  
"I know." She fell silent for a moment, awash in contentment. "It's very  
liberating, in a weird way. I could leave my old life behind altogether,  
or pick and choose who to reconnect with ... like I've been reborn."  
  
"I'm glad you picked me." Clark murmured, kissing her hair. "Who else are  
we going to tell?"  
  
"Well, Perry and Jimmy, at least," she replied, slowly. She was not yet  
tired enough to sleep, but enough that her brain felt as if it were running  
in slow motion. A very comfortable state indeed, after the past few weeks  
of necessary hyper-alertness. "And we have to tell your parents -- I was  
thinking of telling them earlier, actually." She turned her head to search  
for his face in the dim room. "Can we fly out there tomorrow?"  
  
"I'm supposed to go back to work..." He chewed his lip, considering it.  
"But I don't have anything urgent waiting for me, and Perry keeps urging me  
to take 'time to heal,' so he wouldn't mind if I took a sick day."  
  
"You can play hookey, then," she concluded in satisfaction. "You always  
said you wanted to."  
  
He laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess I did. But it's a lot more fun with a  
friend." That called for a few friendly kisses.  
  
Clark laid back against the pillows, cuddling her close to his chest. "So,  
that's my parents ... how about yours?"  
  
Lois frowned, contemplating the unhappy state of her relationships with her  
family. "I really don't want to."  
  
"I didn't figure you did," he stated neutrally.  
  
"You think I ought to, though, don't you?"  
  
"I'm not going to tell you what to do." He hesitated, then continued, "I  
just don't want you to have any regrets, later."  
  
Lois sighed, and thought about her mother. The most annoying,  
exasperating, crazy-making ... Ellen had made her life a misery as a  
teenager -- having to deal with her mother's alcoholism had been fairly  
awful. She was on the wagon now, thankfully, but still as neurotic as ever.  
  
"And then, too," Clark continued, "once you start keeping a secret from  
someone, you're stuck. As time goes by, the secret gets harder and harder  
to tell."  
  
Lois grinned and turned to look at him. "Speaking from personal  
experience, are we?"  
  
"Painful experience," he affirmed, smiling wryly.  
  
She acknowledged the truth of that with a noisy sigh. "Okay, point taken.  
I'll think about it."  
  
Clark hugged her. "That's all I'm asking."  
  
***  
  
"Okay, honey, we'll be expecting you. Love you!" Martha smiled as her son  
said goodbye. She hung up the phone and turned to her husband. "That was  
Clark," she reported. "He's coming to visit this morning, he said."  
  
"Good," Jonathan said, taking another sip of coffee. "He's been working  
much too hard lately, especially as Superman."  
  
"Well, he sounds much better," she replied, sitting at the table and  
watching Jonathan finish his breakfast. "Not so lost -- almost cheerful."  
  
"Good. Although--" Jonathan frowned briefly. "I hardly saw any sight of  
Superman yesterday. The newsgroup usually picks up his major appearances,  
but nothing yesterday. Well, there was one possible sighting in Nevada,  
but it was unconfirmed."  
  
"When did you have time to read the newsgroups?" Martha asked, amused by  
her husband's cyber-savvy.  
  
"Checked it this morning right after downloading the current beef prices."  
  
"Ah, I see. I'll take a look after breakfast, then." Her amusement faded  
away as she turned to a more worrisome topic. "I wonder what made him  
sound so cheerful, though."  
  
Jonathan looked up. "Why does it matter? Isn't it a good thing? He was  
so torn up after Lois -- well, I didn't think I'd ever see him smile again."  
  
"Of course I want him to be happy again, Jonathan," she snapped, restlessly  
twisting the edge of the tablecloth. "But don't you think it's too soon?  
She's only been gone for six weeks!"  
  
"Martha, now, don't fret yourself," he soothed, standing and moving behind  
her to rub her neck. "I'm sure Clark knows what he's doing. He's a  
sensible boy, and he's old enough to handle himself."  
  
She sighed, relaxing into the neck rub. "I know. I just wonder, is all."  
  
"Well, we'll find out soon enough," Jonathan pointed out prosaically. "But  
I've got to go let the cows out to pasture. I'll be back in an hour."  
  
He kissed her goodbye and made his way out the door, leaving her in the  
kitchen with her thoughts. The loss of Lois had devastated her son, she  
knew, and while she was glad he was sounding better, she was consumed with  
curiosity as to the cause of his improvement. Grief took time, and six  
weeks seemed hardly enough. Not that she wanted him to suffer, of course,  
but if he tried to ignore his feelings, it would only come back to hurt him  
even more, later. "Well, no point sitting around stewing about it," she  
spoke aloud. She stood, suiting actions to words, and started busying  
herself with her normal household chores.  
  
***  
  
Lois woke up to the smell of French toast and black coffee. She smiled,  
contemplating her newly married state. Would it be strange to face him  
now, in the daylight? Only one way to find out. With butterflies in her  
stomach, she slipped on some clothes, and emerged into the kitchen, where  
Clark had breakfast nearly completed. "Morning, husband."  
  
He smiled at her over his shoulder as he flipped the last piece of toast.  
"Morning, wife. You looked so cute, sleeping in my bed, that I didn't have  
the heart to wake you."  
  
She smiled back as the butterflies evaporated, and walked over to embrace  
him from behind; he turned his head for a brief kiss. He was still Clark,  
and all was right with her world. "Enjoy it while you can; I'm usually up  
at dawn. But I guess I was still tired."  
  
"And probably still malnourished," he added, finishing with the stove. She  
reluctantly let him go and followed him over to the table. "So I made you  
a big breakfast."  
  
"Have I mentioned that I love you?" She kissed him, hard, to prove it.  
  
He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, smiling warmly at her as they  
disengaged. "Not since yesterday. But the evidence yesterday was pretty  
convincing."  
  
She giggled. "Hey, when I do something, I don't kid around."  
  
"Too true. Well, I called Perry this morning, and told him I wouldn't be  
in today. Then I called my folks, and told them to expect me."  
  
She glanced up at him. "Did you mention me at all?"  
  
He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't know what to say."  
  
She nodded rueful agreement. "I don't even know what I'll say when I see  
them."  
  
"We'll think of something. Just think positive."  
  
"Right. Think positive. I can do that." She finished her breakfast with  
swift efficiency. "So, when do we go?"  
  
A rush of wind filled the kitchen, and when it subsided, she saw that all  
the dishes were put away, the stove and counters cleaned, and Clark was in  
his red-and-blue travelling outfit. "Anytime you're ready."  
  
She stood. "Let's go then."  
  
***  
  
Martha had just finished unloading the dishwasher when movement in the  
front yard caught her eye. She glanced out the window and saw her son --  
still in his Superman outfit -- and an unfamiliar blond woman. Martha  
frowned. Who was this? And why on Earth would Clark endanger his secret  
identity by bringing her here, where Superman had no reason to visit?  
  
She watched them for a moment. Perhaps Superman would soon fly off, and  
Clark would come walking downstairs. In that case, she'd have to pretend  
that he'd been here already, though for how long she didn't know. She  
wished that Clark would have told her what her lines should be.  
  
As Martha waited for Clark to make his move, she studied his guest. The  
woman seemed young, and she was standing much too close to Superman for his  
mother's comfort -- Clark was relaxed in her presence, though. Now she was  
gesturing towards the S-shield and smiling ... Clark looked down, and then  
stepped back, spinning into a multi-colored blur. When he slowed down  
again, he was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, with Clark's glasses.  
Martha gripped the edge of the counter, trying to imagine what this might  
mean. Clark must be on very intimate terms with this strange woman, who  
was fidgeting nervously -- they were standing close together again, and he  
was leaning in close to speak softly in her ear. And now he was holding  
her hand! How could he even *think* of another woman this soon after Lois'  
death! Martha frowned. Time to sort this out.  
  
With a determined look, she emerged from the house. "Hello," she greeted  
them, unable to come up with anything more creative, and unwilling to use  
Clark's name in the faint hope that this woman didn't know his real  
identity.  
  
They looked up at that, and the woman quickly -- guiltily -- pulled her  
hand away from Clark's. "Hi, Martha," she responded, sounding awkward and  
unsure.  
  
"Hello," Martha said again, looking back and forth between them, and  
finally staring at her son, willing him to explain himself. "What are you  
doing here?" she prompted.  
  
"Hi Mom ... uh, we have some news. I didn't know how to say it over the  
phone." He shifted uneasily, glancing around the yard. "Is Dad around?"  
  
"What sort of news?" she demanded, both alarmed and annoyed at her son's  
inexplicable behavior. And this blond thing seemed to know far too much.  
She glared at them both in turn. "Would one of you please tell me what's  
going on?"  
  
"That's why we came here, Mom," Clark said. "Why don't you and--" he  
stopped himself, gesturing to his friend, "you two go on inside, and I'll  
get Dad." He pulled down his glasses and scanned the fields.  
  
"Your father's putting the cows out to pasture," Martha informed him,  
feeling a sense of disastrous inevitability about the whole morning. "Come  
on in, then, Miss--?"  
  
The blonde started at that request, and looked quickly towards Clark,  
asking some sort of silent question. He shook his head no, and added  
aloud. "Not just yet."  
  
"Okay," the blonde replied, somewhat reluctantly, then turned back to  
Martha. "Call me Paula."  
  
Martha gestured for Paula to enter the house, rolling her eyes at this  
crack-brained conversation. She couldn't imagine what Clark could be up  
to, but it couldn't be good.  
  
"Won't you please have a seat, Paula?" Martha's question died away as she  
saw that the woman had already made herself at home at the kitchen table,  
instead of the more formal living room that Martha had had in mind. "Can I  
get you a drink?" she asked, out of habit.  
  
Paula smiled nervously. "Ice water would be great, thank you." She  
hesitated, picking at the edge of the tablecloth, then continued. "I'm  
sorry we startled you today. It's just that Clark didn't know how to even  
approach the topic over the phone; we thought it'd be best to do it in  
person."  
  
Martha poured her guest a glass of water. "You needn't apologize for him,"  
she commented, aware that it came out sounding rather curt. She admitted  
she was feeling more than a bit hostile towards Paula, and she wasn't even  
quite sure why. Except that she was starting to fear that Clark had fallen  
for this .. this ... teenager! It was a betrayal of Lois, and it could not  
possibly be healthy. For either of them.  
  
She seated herself, and looked up to see Paula watching her.  
  
"I know what you're thinking," she said quietly. "But I'm not what, or  
who, you think I am."  
  
Martha bit back an ugly retort, struggling to hold her temper. If this was  
Clark's decision, she'd have to respect it. And stay in contact with him,  
so that if -- when -- it went horribly wrong, she could help him pick up  
the pieces. Again. "All I ever wanted was for him to be happy," she  
finally managed.  
  
For some reason, that elicited a glimmer of a smile from across the table.  
"Yeah, I remember him telling me that, last fall."  
  
Martha raised an eyebrow, wondering what that meant, but was heartened to  
hear that Clark had, after all, known this woman for more than a few days.  
Maybe this wasn't as impossible as it seemed.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her son and her husband,  
who arranged themselves around the table. "All right, son," Jonathan said,  
with a curious glance at Paula, "you wanna tell me what's going on here?"  
  
Clark and his friend exchanged glances, then both broke into speech.  
  
"She's not really Paula--"  
  
"--I'm really Lois Lane. And I know I don't look like Lois--"  
  
"--but that's because Lex Luthor cloned her. Remember how someone cloned  
me, two years ago?"  
  
"We don't know if that was Lex, but it probably was, and he had this  
servant, Asabi--"  
  
"--who could do *soul* transfers -- weird, huh, and anyway--"  
  
"--he transferred my mind, my soul, into this new body, but it's really me."  
  
They trailed to a stop, and Clark looked at his parents imploringly. "Mom,  
Dad," he tried again, "this is Lois, *my* Lois. I didn't believe her at  
first, but part of me always knew."  
  
Martha shook her head in bewilderment, looking to her husband for support.  
He was frowning in concentration. "Do you think you could run that by me  
again? Slowly? Not leaving anything out?"  
  
Clark started from the beginning, much more coherently this time.  
Occasionally, Lois would add in her perspective or commentary, until they  
had the complete picture. Martha sat back in her chair, stunned by the  
weight of revelation.  
  
"Oh, my lord," Jonathan said, with a note of wonder in his voice. "Lois?"  
  
Martha looked at her pragmatic husband in surprise. She could barely make  
sense of it all, but he seemed to be taking things in his stride.  
  
The woman across the table looked at Jonathan and nodded. "Yeah -- it's  
me. We're trying to get our lives back ... and I know how important you  
guys are to Clark's life." She laughed briefly. "Not to mention to mine."  
She looked at Martha. "How about you, Martha? Can you accept this? We  
can give you time, if you need it...."  
  
Martha just shook her head helplessly, and glanced at her son, who was  
silently pleading his case, then looked at her husband again. Her head was  
spinning from all this talk of clones and soul transfers, but Jonathan ...  
well, of course. Jonathan wouldn't be bothered by the things he didn't  
understand, as long as there was something he did. He knew Clark -- and so  
did she. The thought steadied her. And if Clark believed this ... "Well,  
honey," her hands fluttered briefly, before she brought them back down on  
the table. "I guess it's not the strangest thing I've ever encountered!"  
  
***  
  
"Are you sure about this, honey?" Clark asked, as they stood outside Ellen  
Lane's upstate apartment building.  
  
Lois took a deep breath, wishing the knot in her stomach would go away.  
"You're the one who wanted me to do this, Clark, don't go changing your  
story now."  
  
"I don't want you to do it just for me, you know that."  
  
"I know." She had thought long and hard about this. Her mother drove her  
crazy on a regular basis, true, but she only had one mother. "You know,  
right before the wedding, we had some good moments," she said, more to  
reassure herself than to convince Clark. "We bonded when we were shooting  
clones -- hah, now that's ironic. But I think we could have a better  
relationship." Besides, whatever her faults, Ellen didn't deserve to think  
her oldest daughter had died young.  
  
"All right, then." Clark opened the door to the lobby, and ushered her  
inside. He'd called ahead, and Ellen was expecting him. Within moments,  
she was opening her apartment door to them.  
  
"Hello, Clark."  
  
Her mother looked terrible, and she'd obviously begun drinking again. Lois  
sucked in her breath, overwhelmed by a flood of bitter memories.  
  
"Hello, Ellen ... are you okay?" Clark couldn't help asking.  
  
"Am I okay?" Ellen found that question funny, but her laugh betrayed her  
inebriated state. "Of course not! My Lois, my favorite daughter ... she's  
dead! Didn't you know?" She looked up at him owlishly, swaying a bit as  
she held onto the door jamb. Her head slewed to the right as she noticed  
Lois. "And who's this?" Her voice roughened with hurt and anger. "I knew  
you couldn't be trusted. My baby's barely in the grave, and you're taking  
up with another woman! Men! You claimed you loved her! What has this --  
this *floozy* got that my daughter doesn't have?"  
  
Feeling angry and betrayed, Lois couldn't help herself. "A pulse?" she  
murmured bitterly, but she managed to keep the observation quiet enough  
that Ellen didn't catch it. Clark sent a brief reproving glance her way.  
  
"Ellen, I do love your daughter, very much. You have to listen to me."  
  
Ellen shook her head decisively. "I'm not ever gonna listen to a man  
again. They're all cheats, and liars. Don't you ever come around here  
again, either." She backed away, and slammed the door shut.  
  
Clark raised his hand to knock again, but Lois caught his arm mid-way.  
"Don't bother. She's drunk. There's no point in talking to her now." She  
closed her eyes, caught between bitter memories and painful reality.  
"We'll have to try again, but ... not now. Dammit, why did she start  
drinking again? She'd been doing so well!"  
  
Clark reached out and pulled her into a hug. "She's had a tough time,  
Lois. She's just ... not so strong, under pressure. We'll talk to her  
later ... maybe we can talk to Lucy, first, and have her help us."  
  
Lois nodded, absorbing much-needed support. "Yeah, that's a good idea."  
She sighed. "Is it worth it?"  
  
He hesitated a long moment. "I think it could be, eventually."  
  
"Yeah. I hope you're right." She squared her shoulders. "But in the  
meantime--"  
  
"The Daily Planet."  
  
***  
  
In the Chief Editor's office, Perry scowled at Lois. "A new body? Back  
from the dead? Tell me, darlin', did you see Elvis anywhere along the way?  
Judas Priest!" His expression softened fractionally as he turned to Clark.  
"Son, don't tell me you fell for this malarkey. I said I wanted you to  
heal, but this was *not* the sort of healing I had in mind! I know you  
miss Lois, but this isn't how to deal with it."  
  
"I can't believe you, Clark," Jimmy added bitterly, a note of confused  
betrayal in his voice. "I know you loved Lois since the moment you saw  
her. How can you *do* this? And how dare you bring *her* around here,  
around us. We knew Lois longer than you did, you know -- we loved her too!"  
  
Clark sighed, and glanced at Lois, who was clearly unsure of how to  
respond. They'd known that their friends might not react well, but it was  
still disheartening to face. "Jimmy ... Chief ... this *is* Lois. I didn't  
believe her at first, either, but--"  
  
Perry threw up his hands. "Clark, this woman is deranged, or worse, and  
she's taking advantage of you in your grief."  
  
"I am not!" Stung, and probably grateful for a target, Lois went into  
attack mode. "Perry, I know you think you're good at judging people, but  
the plain fact is, you're lousy at it. I mean, look at Bill Church -- a  
lifelong friend, and you still managed to overlook his little Intergang  
hobby."  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" Perry spluttered, his face reddening, but Lois refused to  
stop.  
  
"And how about your golfing buddy the Senator, who turned out to be a Nazi?  
Or your friend from the Men's Club who was running a slave labor ring in  
Chinatown? Face it, Chief -- I love ya -- but your character judgement  
sucks. So don't dismiss me so quickly."  
  
Clark winced and rubbed a hand over his face. "Lois, this is *not* the way  
to--"  
  
"Yeah, Clark, I know, I'm ticking him off. But you know I'm right. He was  
totally fooled by that clone of me, wasn't he?"  
  
Perry, now with a firmer grip on his temper, turned to Clark and asked, in  
a deceptively mild voice. "What clone?"  
  
Clark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, Chief, Lois was kidnapped  
right after the wedding. For the next few days, the woman you thought was  
Lois was really ... a clone. I was fooled by her, too," he admitted.  
  
Jimmy stirred at that, leaning forward to rejoin the conversation. "Lois  
did act kinda strange those last couple of days."  
  
Perry fixed him with a severe glance. "How d'ya mean?"  
  
Jimmy squirmed. "She, ah -- it was like she didn't know me. And then she  
was practically coming on to me!" He glanced uneasily towards Clark, then  
away again. "I didn't do anything, 'cause, I mean, it was *Lois*, but ...  
it was way weird."  
  
Clark just shrugged, unsurprised by the tale. "It's okay, Jimmy," he added  
quietly. "She did a lot of weird things."  
  
"Now you're telling me that *that* was a clone?" Perry demanded incredulously.  
  
"Yeah. She eventually told me all about it."  
  
"See?" Lois turned on Perry with a note of triumph in her voice. "How can  
you expect to know when it *is* me, when you didn't know when it *wasn't*  
me. And it definitely wasn't me, because, Jimmy, you're a good friend, but  
there is no *way* I would ... I mean, I know you had that dream and all,  
but that's all it was *ever* going to be--" She stopped. "What is it?"  
  
Jimmy was staring at her, his face drained of color. "You know about -- no  
one knows about that!"  
  
Clark frowned in confusion, looking at both of them. He noticed Perry was  
looking similarly bewildered.  
  
Lois clapped a hand over her mouth in dismay, then immediately removed it  
again. "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I said I'd forget all about it, and I did,  
really, until just now -- I never even told Clark." She glanced his way  
sheepishly.  
  
He shrugged. "I have no idea what she's talking about."  
  
"Never mind that," Perry interrupted brusquely. "What is all this supposed  
to mean?"  
  
Jimmy visibly composed himself. "Chief, I once told Lois -- and *only*  
Lois -- about--" he shot a belligerent look towards his boss. "Never mind  
what it was about."  
  
"I think we can guess," Perry commented dryly. His face had softened into  
a thoughtful look as he studied Lois. "All right, whoever you are, you  
just bought yourself some time."  
  
For the next half hour or so, Perry grilled Lois mercilessly, interrogating  
her about events in their shared past -- with an emphasis on the time  
before Clark had joined the Planet, no doubt to eliminate the possibility  
that Clark had been coaching her. Eventually, however, the old newsman  
stopped the questions. He sat back in his chair with a suspicious glint of  
moisture in his eyes, and said gruffly, "Welcome home, honey."  
  
*  
  
Lois collapsed back into her chair as his meaning sunk in, and she was  
choked by a sudden wave of emotion. She hadn't realized how much she'd  
missed her job, her friends, until they were restored to her. "Thanks,  
Perry," she managed to whisper. She turned. "Jimmy?"  
  
"Oh, don't worry, Lois," he grinned broadly. "You had me at the dream.  
But the less said about *that*, the better!"  
  
She grinned, regaining some of her equilibrium, and squeezed Clark's hand,  
looking up at him in wonder. "They believe me!"  
  
"Of course they do, honey," he replied, reassuringly. "Just like my folks  
do. And like your mother will, once we can explain it to her."  
  
Perry coughed, drawing their attention. "I, uh, hate to interrupt," he  
drawled sardonically, "but what did you two plan to do now?"  
  
Clark tilted his head. "We don't quite know," he admitted with a lopsided  
smile. "Lois has identification that she's named Paula Bainbridge ... you  
could hire her, maybe?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Jimmy enthused, "that's a great idea! You know, you guys could  
pretend you'd only just met, and get to know each other, and Paula could  
soothe your broken heart, Clark. It oughtta take a while, though." Jimmy  
saw Clark's look of dismay, and hastily added, "Hey, it'd only be in  
public! Don't you think it'd be fun? I always thought a secret identity  
would be cool..." his voice trailed off as he became aware that Perry was  
frowning at him.  
  
Lois carefully held back a grin at that, and glanced at Clark. He was  
keeping a poker face as well, but his eyes were dancing. "A secret  
identity, Jimmy?" Clark asked, successfully keeping all laughter out of his  
voice. "I just don't think that would be very practical. Plus I only just  
got Lois back -- I don't want to have to stay away from her for any length  
of time at all."  
  
"In fact," Lois put in helpfully, "we got married yesterday, in Vegas --  
you'd have loved it, Chief, more Elvis impersonators than you could shake a  
stick at."  
  
Perry waved this aside. "Impersonators don't do the King justice. And  
don't distract me from the point, which is ... well, it's not going to look  
good for you two to be married."  
  
"Why not?" Clark demanded, leaning forward. Next to him, Lois sank back in  
her chair, briefly weary of the never-ending battle, willing to let Clark  
take this one.  
  
"Well, you see, a good deal of a reporter's job -- especially for you,  
Clark -- depends on his credibility," Perry explained. "People talk to you  
because they know your reputation; you're honest and loyal and trustworthy.  
And everyone in the city knows how hopelessly in love you were with Lois."  
  
"How in love I *am* with Lois," Clark instantly corrected.  
  
"From their perspective, though, it's were," Jimmy spoke up, frowning over  
the problem. "And if they see you take up with some blond bimbo--"  
  
"Jimmy!"  
  
"Sorry, Lois, but that's what they'll say."  
  
Clark shook his head. "What I do in my personal life shouldn't have that  
big of an impact -- maybe they'll think I'm a fool for love, but--"  
  
"And then there's a problem with hiring her," Perry continued  
remorselessly. "I doubt 'Paula' has any experience or training on her  
resume ... and she won't have any of her old sources, either. It'll take  
years to build up a network."  
  
"Chief, Lois and I shared our sources, you know that; we haven't lost any.  
Are you saying you don't *want* to hire her?"  
  
"Of course not, Clark," the editor reassured them gruffly. "But I do have  
bosses to answer to. What do I tell them?"  
  
Lois sat in her chair and listened to the three of them talk strategy, not  
really liking any of the proposed alternatives. None of them felt right,  
none of them were really *her*. Of course, she wasn't quite herself  
anymore, but she still *felt* like Lois Lane ... at that rebellious  
thought, new possibilities began to blossom, opening up new choices. At  
last, a course of action that felt right.  
  
She held up a hand, gesturing for silence, and announced, loudly enough to  
be heard, "This is ridiculous. I'm going public."  
  
They looked at her in varying degrees of surprise and shock. She stared  
back challengingly. "What? It solves a lot of problems if everyone knows  
that I'm me. Clark doesn't look like he's betrayed me, and I get my  
resume, my life, and my *name* back."  
  
Perry was the first to regain his voice, frowning in consternation.  
"That'll be a tough sell, legally -- there aren't any precedents."  
  
Lois shrugged. "I don't know how far I'll want to take it, but I can at  
least change my name back to Lois."  
  
"How are you going to explain your illegal ID?" Clark asked quietly, no  
doubt knowing that she wouldn't want to betray the man who'd helped her  
with it.  
  
She grinned. "I'll tell them Lex Luthor did it, and they should take it up  
with him. But I, of course, have no idea where he is."  
  
Slowly, he smiled back. "Of course not."  
  
"Anyway, that's for a lawyer to settle."  
  
"I can give you the name of a good lawyer," Perry offered. "Just remind  
me, later."  
  
Lois considered that -- given Perry's record, taking his advice on a lawyer  
could be disastrous. Then again, he'd hired her, and Clark ... so he  
wasn't wrong all the time. "I'll do that, Perry." And interview several  
others, too, just to be on the safe side. "This case will probably be  
nationwide news, actually; lawyers might be lining up to work for free,  
just to build their reputations." It was an unappealing thought, but she  
resolutely brushed it aside.  
  
"Oh yeah," Jimmy said, in a tone of dawning realization, "this is going to  
be all over the tabloids."  
  
"Good," Lois stated brightly. "If they're getting the word out, that's  
fewer people I have to tell about it myself. Although I'd better tell my  
mother before she reads it in the paper." She frowned briefly, then  
resolutely continued. "Besides, the Planet will have the story first -- I  
assume you want the story, Chief?"  
  
Perry stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. "If this is what you  
want to do, darlin', then the Planet's going to cover it. Jimmy! Get STAR  
Labs on the phone, I want to talk to them about these clones." Jimmy  
nodded, and hurried out of the office. Perry turned his attention back to  
his star reporters. "I'm going to write this story myself. Clark, I'm  
sure you want to, but you're too close to it."  
  
Clark shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."  
  
Something in his tone caught her attention, and belatedly, Lois realized  
that if she did this, she'd be plunging Clark's life into chaos, too.  
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She chewed her lip in sudden  
indecision. "You need to interview me, Perry?"  
  
"Not right away -- I'll get the background material together first."  
  
"Good. I need to talk to Clark -- can we use the conference room?"  
  
The editor looked back and forth between them. "Sure, it should be free  
... and while you're there, start making up rough notes ... all the  
corroborative evidence you can think of, that sort of thing. Now, get! I  
have work to do."  
  
Trying to ignore a fit of nerves, Lois stood, and led Clark out of the  
office and across to the large conference room. She turned to face him,  
waiting until he'd closed the door behind them. "Clark ... are you okay  
with this? The tabloids will be all over us, and we won't have a normal  
life for a long time -- I never wanted to ruin your life." A new worry  
presented itself. "Do you think your secret would be safe?"  
  
A look of surprise crossed his face, followed by a faint smile. "I'm not  
worried about me, Lois. I was through this a few weeks ago, when Lex and  
your bodies were found." He reached for her, and looped his arms around  
her waist. "As long as I've got you, I can handle anything. Besides,  
they'll be too busy watching you to pay any attention to me." He  
hesitated, then continued. "Are *you* sure you want to do this?" he asked  
quietly, searching her face, looking for any trace of doubt or fear.  
"Going public might be our best option, but it will be a long, hard ordeal."  
  
Lois looked back at him, searching for the words to reassure him, and  
express her instinctive conviction. "Clark ... this will be tedious, but  
an ordeal? An ordeal is waking up in Italy and trying to get back home on  
stolen money and a traceable passport. Been there, done that. I faced Lex  
Luthor and lived." She leaned forward, growing more sure of herself, more  
passionate as she spoke. "I've traveled through time, I've been to an  
alternate universe and back. More people have tried to kill me than I can  
even *count*. This?" She laughed. "This will be a minor annoyance."  
  
Clark reluctantly had to smile. "I can see your point."  
  
"Besides," she added thoughtfully, "this way, I get to be myself. I won't  
have to hide, or pretend..." She watched realization dawn in Clark's eyes  
as that hit home.  
  
"Ah. Yeah, I see. Okay." He bent down slightly, and she leaned in,  
closing her eyes as their foreheads touched, and they drew strength from  
each other.  
  
"I love you, Clark," she whispered, pulling back just far enough to see him  
properly.  
  
"I love you, too, Lois," he replied quietly. "Let's do this." And with  
one final kiss for luck, they settled down to the business of getting their  
lives back -- together.  
  
THE END  
  
  



End file.
